


you are there too

by potato_writes



Series: a series of imperceptible shifts [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, I still don't know what this is but at least they're happy in this one, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27562426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potato_writes/pseuds/potato_writes
Summary: He sees her again for the first time across a crowded room of refugees, and his heart stops dead in his chest.or, Jaime and Brienne, reunited at last.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: a series of imperceptible shifts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2012446
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	you are there too

**Author's Note:**

> the saga of the story I never meant to write continues, as does my illness, which means this likely makes even less sense than the previous instalments. this story was originally going to be a short one-shot! now it's going to be a six-part series, because I want to retell this from Brienne's pov instead! why are these two like this and can I sue them for emotional damages because of it?
> 
> title from ghost quartet, and thank you for sticking with my nonsense if you're still reading because it's gotta be confusing as hell for you poor souls.

He sees her again for the first time across a crowded room of refugees, and his heart stops dead in his chest.

She’s half-bent, talking to a small child that clings to her arm and sobs and sobs. Her expression is weary, her clothes stained with blood and dirt and sweat, and she limps slightly on an injured left leg, and she has never shone brighter in his eyes than she does now, because she’s _here_ , she’s _alive_ , she’s _real_.

He wants to run, to fly to her side, but his own refugees and fighters are looking to him for instruction, so he turns to them first, delivers orders, sends them running around to gather food and clothing and distribute it among the survivors of the latest world to be attacked, the latest world to fall. He debriefs with his commanders, sends the injured to be tended to, the weary off to rest, all the while keeping one eye on her, over on the far side of the room, speaking soft and kind and quiet to the refugees that she brought in—because she _must_ have, if he knows anything at all about her.

The group she’s leading is half from their home world, half others she’s picked up along the way, and he’s shocked at some of the familiar faces, people who he never thought would believe him when he sent the call, desperate and pleading and hoping even one person might heed his warning. He hadn’t expected any except maybe her to believe his word, the word of a man deemed to be liar and traitor and oathbreaker by all. To see so many he once knew alive and as close to safe as they’ll ever be is a much greater comfort than he’d anticipated in his wildest daydreams.

But he must take care of his own before he can reunite with those he thought lost, and he has lost sight of her among the crowd anyways, and then he hears her voice behind him, as soft and gentle and afraid as he remembers as she says his name, his _real_ name, not whatever assumed title the people of the worlds who follow him have given him now, and he turns before he can help himself and sees her standing there, tears in her eyes and so much _hope_ on her face, and he’s surging forwards before he knows what he’s doing, crashing into her and wrapping her up in his arms, whispering _you’re here, you’re real, you’re here_ into her shoulder over and over.

They shake against each other, tears spilling down both their cheeks as he draws back and cups her face in his hands, both real and false, whispering her name with more reverence than he ever gave to the gods of his homeland. She smiles down at him, shaky and uncertain and _real_ , and he nearly weeps again for the sheer joy of seeing it in person again, after years of only memories to tide him over. 

_It’s you,_ she murmurs, her own hands sliding over his entire body as if trying to imprint the feel of him in her memory. _You’re really here. I’d hoped…_

 _I know,_ he tells her, because he does, because he too had prayed with desperation unlike anything he’d felt before that the few stories he heard were true, that she lived and was leading her own resistance against the darkness, far away from him. And it paid off, it seems, because she’s here in front of him now, and his heart might burst out of his chest for the joy he feels, and it doesn’t matter that the war drags on, or that they have yet to win against the darkness, or that they have a building full of refugees and so much else to deal with.

They are together again at long last, after too many years with nothing but memory to cling to. Everything else can wait, at least for a little while.


End file.
